


the ocean's lament

by Vzsasz



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/F, F/M, Feral Behavior, Hurt Keith (Voltron), M/M, Merperson Lance (Voltron), Orphan Keith (Voltron), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Siren Lance, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-05-24 19:34:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vzsasz/pseuds/Vzsasz
Summary: Keith always had a certain unease around water. When he was younger, Keith spent most of his life at sea, and he had never felt like he belonged on land. At least he hadn't until the storm came and changed life as he knew it. That night, Keith came to understand how merciless the water truly was- he didn’t understand until he was stranded, alone, out at sea. But although he remembers that fear, what he doesn't remember from back then, was that there was something looking out for him through all of it; something that sat just beneath the surface.And he lived on, oblivious-Until that very something washes up on the shores, nearly twelve years later, with chaos directly on its heels.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so this is a new thing that i'm trying. shoutout to grace for putting up with me while i wrote this ;) && sorry for any typos, please mention if you see any!

Keith was nine, and honestly couldn’t come up with a place better than where he was now, but he was perfectly okay with that. Shiro said he deserved happiness, and something about that left a fuzzy haze over Keith’s heart and a too-sweet taste in his mouth. No one had ever told him that he _deserved to be happy_ before. They only said that he was alone, but was what made him just like Shiro in so many ways. 

Keith didn’t understand that bit, yet.

He would though, in years to come, but all of that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was his life with Shiro; the only person Keith knew he could count own. He made this life normal for Keith, it had grown customary for Shiro to drag him around everywhere, especially aboard this infamous cruise ship. but Shiro was the closest thing that Keith had to a father, so he didn’t mind much.

Especially in moments like these.

Shiro was dancing across the room, fingers wrapped around a hairbrush as he whipped the sopping strands around, singing with all his lungs had to give. It was horribly embarrassing, but when Keith was laughing, face flushed with joy, Shiro decided that he would rob all of the stars from the sky for this child.

“ _My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold_ ,” he sang, face bearing the wistful smile that Keith would never tire of seeing. It was the kind that made Keith feel giddy; he liked the way it softened Shiro’s face, creasing his eyes at the corners and scrunching his nose. The tune that he sang was a familiar one, one that everybody knew whether they wanted to or not. It may have been old, and pardon his French, but it was really fucking catchy.

Keith regarded his brother with smiling eyes, grinning at the happiness exhibited by Shiro’s joyous belching. He longed to join in on his singing, but the weight on his chest prevented it, even when all he felt was a bubbling joy. Soon, they would reach the new land, where Shiro would search tirelessly for the woman Keith had never met; for the woman that abandoned him.

“ _There is nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold._ ”

Although he had been singing all this time, Shiro was just putting on a show and had only drug on the length of the actual words. Keith didn’t mind, he never did mind any of Shiro’s shenanigans, especially when they were amusing.

Keith knew the song’s origin, he knew that it was sung by Sirens and used to wreck ships, but Keith wasn’t scared of that.

Keith had never experienced a shipwreck, though, but the song channeled a primitive form of fear; one that resonated within his chest. It remained there, always, no matter how happily Shiro sang it. Keith couldn't shake it, he had seen the true wickedness of the ocean before; he had stared into the eyes of the beast as it reared upwards, wave after wave, devouring everything. He swallowed thickly, for that was one of his fuzzier memories

He frowned, suddenly favoring the stubs of his nails over the show being put on for him. It hurt to touch them, but Keith didn’t care like he used to.

“Whatcha thinking about, kiddo?” feet were suddenly before him, and after following them upwards, he met Shiro’s curious eyes, “And what did I tell you about doing that?”

Keith’s hands dropped from each other the moment he registered Shiro’s voice, tucking nervously beneath his thighs. He’d worry about them later, Keith decided, and that could wait.

Now, however, Shiro was looking down at him, lips turned up into an adoring smile. Keith really looked at him then, drinking in every detail from the fond expression on his face to wrinkles steadily forming along his brow. Shiro had been there for him from the beginning, or at least that’s what Keith thinks. He couldn’t recall a time B.S (before Shiro), and he had no problem with that whatsoever. Maybe there was a family out there that missed him, someone that didn't _mean_ to give him up, someone that would make him feel like he belonged.

It wasn’t like he didn’t have the connection with Shiro, he just didn’t always feel it.

Shiro’s hands were behind his back, and Shiro was looking at him with the shiftiest expression Keith had ever seen. He could see the way his smile became a little tight at the corners, and the look in his eyes was just plain treacherous. He was planning something, Keith realized, and it couldn’t have been good.

There was silence, and then-

Keith dove for a pillow with a battle cry, yanking it from the mattress and holding it between them as if it was a weapon. The mischievous glint had returned to his eyes, and it was one that Shiro had come to enjoy seeing. The attention made Keith itch, fingers curling and uncurling in the dense fabric.

Shiro eyed it with narrowed hues, hands steady as they moved the pillow from behind his back and into Keith's line of sight. Keith rolled his eyes and Shiro grinned, carefully holding it out in a silent invitation between them.

They went at each other like animals, pillows colliding with enough force to stun each other, but light enough to avoid serious injury. Keith choked on his laughter as he took a particularly savage beating, feathers flying everywhere as Shiro rained down blow after blow.

Keith fell backward and onto one of the two beds, where he quickly rolled into the center in order to avoid an attack, but Shiro had other ideas. He followed, kneeling beside Keith while he continued the torture.

“You’re off your game today!” Shiro crooned, pressing a pillow threateningly closer into Keith’s face. White flashed over Keith’s head as Shiro raised it and hummed a low, swift tune as he brought it down. Keith’s startled squeal was muffled and he laughed, shoving the man away roughly with as much strength as he could.

But somewhere along the way, in the mass of all their laughter and fighting, Keith had fallen asleep, and he dreamt of a life that wasn’t his own. He dreamt of white- of rhythmic machinery and tanks filled with all sorts of monstrosities- things that had no business being out of the ocean.

Blue eyes turned to him, vibrant amongst the dreary white and-

Keith woke up with a sudden jolt.

Though his eyes were open, he couldn’t think of why; all he could do was feel the pounding of his heart and his inability to form thoughts. He woke up like this on most nights- without warning, eyes flinging open so wide Shiro says he looks like someone who just got punched in the gut. He moved the covers from over his face, blinking as his eyes tried to focus in the darkness.

It was strange, but Keith had grown used to it, and normally the sound of Shiro’s breathing that would lure him back into a false sense of security, but not tonight. Shiro always snored, but he wasn’t tonight. Keith listened and waited for it, trembling for a reason he could put no name to. After deciding that it wasn’t happening, he rolled his neck, moving slowly as he pushed himself out of bed.

Keith yawned, digging his finger into Shiro’s shoulder in hope that it would wake the man, but all he did was stir, swatting the child’s hands away.

“Leave me alone,” he mumbled, voice muffled by the drool-soaked pillow. Keith looked at him, disgusted, and decided that he was really, really thirsty.

Rubbing at the sleep in his eyes, Keith shuffled from their shared room, toward the hall, where the floor tipped dangerously beneath his feet. He blanched, gripping for purchase at the wall until the ship finally settled.

He thought that was the end of it. 

A deep rumble sounded through the air around him, and panic briefly struck him. His nerves really kicked in, the, causing him to hesitate as he drew closer to the door. But Keith fought the urge down, twisting it open with all the strength he could muster and wrenched it open.

The entire atmosphere changed, and total darkness prevailed.

The clouds were thicker than Keith had ever seen, and the sky was stricken, blotting out the sunlight that once led them through the waves. The wind arose from seemingly the depths of hell, pushing the waters into choppy waves, ones that soon morphed into mountains high enough to dwarf even the mighty ship. Keith watched this all happen, frozen with fear as it ran like ice through his veins.

Some people were already moving, that much he could see. They rushed by the open door, slipping around on the water sloshing at their feet in the sheer haste.

The real panic set in.

Wind slammed rain into Keith's face as if it was solid matter, beating down on him until his face was raw. The water had filled his eyes, blinding him in the face of death.

Voices broke out around him but Keith kept moving, forcing himself onto the deck and into the midst of the chaos. People shoved past him and he cursed, pulling away from urgent hands as they grabbed and tugged, eager to get him out of the way.

Keith stumbled across the deck through the hectic mess, up until the point he full on slammed into the legs of some grown man.

“For fuck's sake,” a voice shouted, and Keith recognized this as the captain, “Someone get him the fuck out of here!”

Unfamiliar hands were on him in an instant, and fear exploded all around him.

“What the hell!” he cried, furious, “Get off of me!”

The people didn’t listen, instead trapping him on all sides while they herded him towards a ladder, where he had no choice but to climb. Fear gripped his heart like a vice, pumping his heart full of adrenaline until every nerve ending in his body was on fire. Shiro, he needed Shiro.  

They pushed him to the top, where a vaguely familiar man shoved a flotation vest over his head and told him sternly to stay put.

Keith of course, did as he was told.

Kidding.

The ship still pressed on though, bravely climbing the waves, and then crashing back down in a cascade of metal and water. It made Keith's bones ache and his stomach flip, and he decided that he didn't like this ship anymore. He wanted it to be over. He wanted Shiro.

It was during one of these heart-stopping plummets that a surge of water broke onto the deck, and Keith’s heart fell through his chest. He screamed, but the sailors were already moving in a flurry, pushing Keith towards anything that he could hold onto, and anything that prevented him from feeling the blunt impact of another surge. Keith was a child, but that didn’t exactly make him a top priority in the face of danger.

A heart-wrenching sob ripped its way from his body as realization struck, and his entire body shook with the force of his emotions, beckoning him to fight for them. The sound of his owns screams ricocheted throughout his ears as he pounded fiercely on the man that held him back, broken sobs spilling from his throat. 

“ _Shiro!_ ” He cried, thrashing as much as possible in the arms that held him, “ _You have to help Shiro!_ ”

Time became class; where each second that ticked by stretched on for an eternity. Keith was aware of his own screaming as he begged for Shiro, sobbing helplessly as he was jerked around before the man was pulling him back down the ladder. He fought it this time, but it was no use. He was bigger than Keith, and that alone prevented him from escaping.

He grappled for anything he could use as leverage to get away from them, sobbing desperately as they simply moved him. The ship tipped dangerously as black waves thrust forward in an exhibit of power, allowing Keith to catch sight of the desolate black sea that had already consumed a portion of the ship. He could hear the sirens, and the desperate shrieks of people as everything they loved was ripped away from them.

As heaven’s choirs played their sounds of death, salt burned Keith’s lungs, suffocating him.

Keith was being hoisted into the air, and a sudden jolt knocked him free of his captors and sent him tumbling over the railing and directly onto one of the escape boats. His back met the wood and he cried out, pain exploding in a violent burst of colors behind his eyelids, and he cried out as the world went black.

Keith awoke with an aching pain in his muscles that appeared almost as soon as he was awake, and it burned through his will to move with ease. A groan came from him, dragging through his hoarse throat until it was pushed past his chapped lips. Keith became aware of the salt in his mouth and opened his eyes.

A canvas of pale colors stretched over his head, gloriously brilliant in the rising sun. It made him angry, horribly angry. The sky had no right to look this nice when it laid witness to a tragedy.

A collection of disfigured silhouettes were littered along the water, still as an oil painting. Water sloshed around in his body and he coughed up whatever was plaguing it. Keith was confused, and his vision was beyond distorted.

He moved- and was falling.

The water rushed into his body like it owned him already- an empty chasm of blue and darkness. It was icy against his skin, and violent beyond his comprehension; forcing itself down his throat and robbing the air from his fragile lungs. All he could do was taste the salt as it burned its way down his throat; gulp after gulp. His limbs moved against his will, mind rapidly losing focus as everything blurred. There was no fun, only fear, a fear that was strong enough to make him fight harder as he sunk.

 _Fight,_ his blood roared, _fight!_

He broke the surface, limbs jerking as they were forced from their weightless state and latching onto anything he could get his hands on. Without conscious thought, without choice, his body did what it had to in order to survive, and Keith couldn’t be more thankful for it. His hands locked onto a rope, and he hoisted himself up, up, _up_.

Keith hit the wood with a wet slap, regurgitating whatever he could get of his system before he collapsed. Adrenaline coursed through his system, filling his limbs with an unbearable tingle. He wanted to stand, desperately, but his legs had given way to the fear, leaving them weak and unreliable. But Keith forced himself to move, pushing upwards with a muffled cry. The first thing he did was retch, and then he realized just what his situation was.

The expanse of blue water stretched in every direction to the horizon, and Keith was adrift on an ocean with no wisp of land in sight. The boat he was on bobbed on the waves as helpless as a toy in a bathtub, rolling along with the current until it finally dawned on him.

Everyone else was gone, and he was going to die out here.

A sob broke out of him, tears casting a hazy sheen over his eyes. How had his life gone this wrong, in so little time?

 Sorrow consumed him, leaving him to do nothing but sit cross-legged aboard the wooden boat. In a matter of minutes, he had lost everything and everyone he had ever known. The ocean stirred beneath him, and somewhere down there was Shiro, and the rest of his family. At this point, it was safe to say that there was nothing left for him. Perhaps he should just melt away into the water; let it consume him from the inside out. Just as it had Shiro.

The thought made him cry even harder, salty tears mingling with the ocean; contributing to the cause. Keith was devastated, alone and afraid in the middle of nowhere. Without Shiro, his world was cold, even with the heat mercilessly beating down on him, Keith felt empty. He had never been alone before, no matter how far away Shiro was there, his presence shrouded Keith.

That was gone now, and Keith felt raw and exposed. All by himself in the middle of god knows where; with nothing but whatever lurked beneath the surface of the waves.

_Click… click._

“What the _fuck_?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one goes by kind of quick,,, im cringing but enjoy!

Keith found himself flinching at his own language nearly as soon as it left his mouth, sniffing hurriedly with an embarrassed snort. He wiped his eyes with damp hands, as if trying to assure himself that what he saw was real. What could only be described as sea monster was before him, head resting on its crossed arms as it studied Keith. Something splashed in the water behind it, and Keith understood.

Keith had seen pictures of mermaids before, and although it looked similar, this was not one of them.

Its tail was long and sinewy, nearly three meters of muscles that tapered off before flaring outwards, forming a fin that was nearly translucent in the sunlight. It was split into four parts on its own, and each ended with a dangerous point. The monster moved, and Keith caught sight of the burly spikes running a path down its spine, protruding slightly from the thing’s nape and rising nearly eight inches in some places. _Fins_ , Keith realized. _They were fins._

The tail itself was coated with royal blue scales, ones that didn’t just disappear as it met the lithe torso it was attached to. As it pushed itself further from the water, Kieth saw that they were on the thing’s stomach too- they trailed up its sides, running back and over its shoulders, where the oceanic plates danced across its throat and framed its face. It didn’t have ears- frills shot outwards from where they should have been. There were thicker scales coating its forearms, where flashes of bronze skin could be seen before it hardened again, forming a protective layer between its claws and webbed fingers.

Keith’s eyes burned a path up the creature’s body, where distributed bioluminescent patches were rendered dull in the sunlight, but were shining at full capacity beneath the surface. Its tail reflected the sun’s rays, painting it brilliant shades of blue in the depths. Another splash sounded behind it, and Keith noticed how the color dulled to a near black. _It has the upper half a boy_ , Keith realized, _one that couldn’t have been much older than him._

But that didn’t change the fact that i _t_ wasn’t human. The thing moved closer, and the water plastering its bitter chocolate hair to its forehead dripped eerily down its face. It stopped slithering, blinking eerily at him. Its eyes gleamed, the arctic blue hues of a hunter framed in the passionless face of an executioner. They lit up the space between them, and it clicked again.

It wasn’t a mermaid. Keith knew what this monster was.

Keith couldn’t breathe, and the siren opened his mouth.

It chittered again, impatient, then release a small sound that was unlike anything Keith had ever heard- and he found his attention withdrawn from the pain in his chest to the entity before him. It dragged itself closer to Keith until the boat threatened to tip, sliding along the wood until its body was nearly upon him, and brought its clawed hands to Keith’s face. Its ear-things flicked once, twice, and it opened its mouth again before closing it.

It didn’t exactly form words, instead releasing a single stream of raw noise. The sound was unearthly, a haunting melody that transcended reason itself and filled the open air around them. The call beckoned him, and it took Keith a minute to finally realize what the thing was doing; it was humming. But there was more to it than that, the siren was humming the same song the crew had been just moments before the crash.

But it stopped moments later, clicking urgently in a way Keith could only describe as concerned. At that point, Keith noticed that he was, in fact, crying again, and the thing was worried about him. Its slippery hands met his face in an attempt to wipe the tears, but when it only succeeded in making it worse, the clicking grew more frequent.

“You’re wet,” Keith grumbled, shoving the thing away. Something strange crossed its features and it moved closer, shoving its face near Keith’s mouth while it clicked softly. The siren curled its finger, digging its joint into Keith's stomach before releasing a sequence of demanding clicks.

Fear, briefly, was the last thing on Keith’s mind, urgently replaced with a curiosity he could put no name to. The siren was uncharted territory for him, but he couldn’t decide if it was something he wanted to explore, or avoid altogether. Maybe this thing could help him, as soon as he taught it how to communicate with him.

“What?” he asked,  “Do you want me to talk?” He asked, and the response was immediate. The siren darted his head back and grinned, showing off his very _sharp_ teeth. Keith flinched at that, and the frown that overtook the thing’s face nearly made him regret it. The siren looked down at itself, studying its hands before glancing up at Keith.

It didn’t hesitate to flee, slipping off of the wooden remains and disappearing into the ocean.

Keith was honestly… stunned. Amazement didn’t quite cover how he felt in that instant. He was shocked to his core and wondered for a second if he was actually going crazy. That was it, probably, he was going to die out here alone with his crazy imagination.

The worst part of this whole situation was the fact Keith had no one to help him through it, and would no doubt die soon. The thought made him shiver. Just how would mother nature take him? Drowning? Starvation? Dehydration?

At sea, the possibilities were endless.

Keith never noticed how much time was similar to water. It could move slow, a drop a time, like a single minute being dragged out for hours. But it could also rush by in a blink, just as it had that night.  

Right now, it was moving slow.

He sat there, sitting in that damned boat, for what had to have been hours, but were most likely minutes. It was torturous, and Keith was getting desperate for something, _anything_ , that could distract him from the agonizing silence.

_Splash_

Keith looked up to find it already situated, pulling itself up the wooden sides with something hanging from its jaws. They could unhinge, Keith realized, perfect for hunting.

The fish hit the wood with a wet smack, but the smell was what really pushed Keith away. He moved further back, but with the threat of tipping, he had to stop. The thing chittered unhappily, nudging the fish remnants closer to Keith until it decided that the boy wasn’t having it. It picked it up, removed a chunk with its teeth, and guzzled it down. The thing grinned at Keith and held it out towards him, nodding expectantly.

Keith mustered a smile of his own, and the thing nearly shrieked. It shuffled closer, hoisting more of its body from the water in order to move closer. The wood creaked, and nearly tipped, but held fast. The siren made the noise again, hooking its fingers into its own cheeks and pulling them to show off its teeth- the _pointy teeth_. It released them, pointing at Keith.

Keith obeyed, opening his mouth wide while the thing approached and peered inwards. It took him a split second to realize he made a horrible decision, and another to realize that raw fish wasn’t as disgusting as he expected. He’d still probably die of food poisoning though.

The siren backed away, satisfied, blinking at Keith once more before it disappeared back into the water, and Keith was alone again.

He settled against the wooden wall, sinking his fingers into the cold meat of the fish before detaching it from the scales. It would have been better cooked, and Keith had never tried sushi before, but there was a first time for everything.

Three bites in and he felt sick to his stomach, but he supposed that it would have to do, especially when there was nothing else around for him to eat. He couldn’t quite complain when the siren was practically keeping him alive. He would get thirst soon, and he wasn’t sure if the siren knew exactly what fresh water was.

But despite all of his complaints, Keith had learned to accept what was given to him by the siren, and not complain when things could be so much worse.

It went on like this for days; the siren would bring him little snacks that consists of oysters and raw fish, and while it was disgusting, the little things kept him alive. But it didn’t just stop at supplying food, exactly, Keith found himself being showered with treasures that had no real value in the middle of the ocean. The siren brought him pearls and shells, and basically whatever else it could get his hands on. Keith didn’t mind much, sometimes the thing brought him legitimately cool items, but it never let Keith keep those.  

He had more problems than that, however:  

With the sun beating down on him, Keith got thirsty very quick.

That’s where the shells came in, he could use them to catch rainwater and what not, because drinking either his own pee, or salt water, would never happen no matter how thirsty he got. He’d rather die than drink his own piss. The siren didn’t understand that part, it just chittered instantly whenever he refused to consume the sea water it offered, it only understood the more basic gestures.

Yet it seemed to understand Keith’s need for affection and distractions quite easily. That was the strange part about it. Keith could express the slightest bit of sadness, and the siren would hoist itself out of the water and drape itself across his body, giving Keith the time to pet its wet scales and run his fingers through its chocolaty hair. He wouldn’t admit it, but Keith had come to enjoy times like these.

There was something strange about caring for an entity that wasn’t entirely human, but it didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. The siren was nice- it was basically just another person in his eyes, but he wasn’t used to addressing it as such.

Right now, the thing was draped heavily across his legs its tail bent over the edge in a rather awkward angle that couldn’t have been comfortable, but it didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Keith on the other hand, was having a little trouble.

Wood dug into the back of his neck and no matter how much he wanted to, Keith couldn’t bring himself to move and ruin this fragile moment. He sat there for what might have been hours, drifting in and out of a quiet bliss before the siren awoke too.

Oceanic eyes opened blearily, and Keith bit back a rare smile.

It stared at him in confusion, blinking, his eyelashes brushing against the skin of Keith’s knees until it tickled, eventually pulling a giggle from his hoarse throat.

He pat the siren on its head and watched it watch him, studying the way its cheeked caved inward when it grinned before sitting up. It leaned in, nuzzling its coarse face into Keith’s shoulder before it settled yet again.

A thought struck him.

This close, Keith would have no chance of surviving if it chose to attack, but he somewhere deep down, he knew that it wouldn’t. It went both ways, he supposed. 

The siren was close enough for him to smell the sharp tang of the salt water it emitted, and Keith found himself inhaling it anyways. He had grown close to the siren, and words couldn’t describe how that made him feel.

Less alone, no doubt, but he had never felt further from humanity. It was a cruel reminder that this thing wasn't like him; it didn't live like he did. This _thing_ was a predator, and he couldn't take it lightly no matter how much he wanted to. But perhaps he could learn. 

“What's your name?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is the next chapter, enjoy!

He didn’t know why he chose that day of all days to finally ask the question, but he did it nonetheless. Plus, Keith wasn’t exactly expecting an answer, he knew that the siren couldn’t communicate properly with humans, but something told him that today was different. 

Keith’s voice was hoarse with disuse, but it still intrigued the siren nonetheless. It clicked at him as it pulled back, cocking its head to the side. Something in their dynamic was changing, it was probably the fact that Keith had never bothered with idle chatter when it came to the siren, he merely spoke when he had to and yelled when it was required, but he never bothered to try and have a conversation. 

He pointed to himself, making sure to draw out each different sound, “K-ei-th.”

But some part of him knew that this wouldn’t work, and because of that, he hadn’t been expecting much. Yet, there was still some hope left in him when the siren’s face screwed up and its mouth moved, and as usual, it made no sound. Keith waited for what felt like minutes, and his hope dissipated all at once. He returned to staring at the wood, but then the thing broke the surrounding silence, “K...ith” 

Shock rendered him numb, and absolute joy was the next thing to fill his conscious. But there was also something else that came along with it- a certain sense of pride. Not for him, but for the siren. It was learning, and it occurred to him just how human this thing was. 

Sure, it wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough. 

A marveled laugh escaped him, and the thing clicked in response. 

“Yes!” he shouted with a smile, pointing to himself again, “I’m Keith. Who are you?” 

It pointed to itself, head tilted with an expression that mocked his, “ _ Kee-ith _ .” 

“No, you aren’t Keith,” he laughed, and it mimicked the noise with ease. Keith looked at it, bewildered, “Who are you?  _ What  _ are you?” 

“Keith!” It chirped, and Keith found himself laughing again. 

“No,” he told him, and it chirped, “I’m Keith, you’re just… blue.” 

“Bl...ue,” it repeated, and Keith clapped. 

He recognized the mistake.

There was a violent change in the air between them, and it was strange how fast he realized it. Something stony and cold settled over the siren’s features, and Keith watched it recoil so fast he barely had the time to jump himself. It hissed at him, which was a gesture Keith had never seen nor heard before, and bared its teeth. 

It chittered up an angry storm in his direction, frills pressed flat against its head its eyes narrowed. It clicked, releasing a garbled mixture of snarls and growls before it was gone, disappearing into the murky depths with a soft splash. 

It didn’t come up for the rest of the day. 

For Keith, the situation was a cruel reminder that this  _ thing  _ was not human, and he probably shouldn’t have been treating it like it was throughout this whole experience, no matter how much it helped him get by day after day. It probably saw him as a baby- something that needed to be protected. 

It was nearly infuriating, and Keith would have snapped by now if it wasn’t for the fact he  _ was  _ a baby in its eyes. The siren was built to  _ kill _ , and Keith was not. He was in its domain now, and without a tail, Keith was basically defenseless against anything that could possibly inhabit the waters. Things like Blue. 

But Keith was uncertain of even that. It was something that hadn’t exactly crossed his mind, no matter how much time he was given to sit around and think. Did Blue actually have any family out there? Did it have people to make sure it came home for dinner, or people that made sure it was safely asleep in bed? Did Blue have its  _ own  _ Shiro? 

The answer to nearly all of those questions was unknown because as far as Keith knew, Blue’s time basically rotated around Keith. It was there 24/7, even like now, when Keith assumed that it was upset with him. He could still see its fin poke out from the water every now and again; a gentle reminder that Blue wasn’t going anywhere-

That Keith could depend on it, even when he did so much to scare it away. 

Maybe they were the same- maybe Blue felt the same pull that he did. Maybe Blue was more human than he realized. 

Keith shook the thoughts away, but he couldn’t shake the sudden feeling of loneliness that settled upon him. Shiro- he missed Shiro more than anything else in the world, and in that moment, he didn’t care what he had done to aggravate Blue-

He needed to fix things. 

Keith peered over the edge of the boat, waiting for the telltale spots of bioluminescence that would tell him where Blue was, but he had no such luck. 

A few minutes passed, and he decided to try something else. 

He settled against the side of the boat and leaned carefully over the edge, extending his hand until he could dip his fingers into the water. It moved softly around his outstretched fingers, and he inhaled deeply. 

A low whistle spilled past his lips and he moved his hand with more confidence through the water, wiggling it freely until ripples appeared adjacent to him.

He removed his hand with a satisfied smile and watched as Blue’s head peeked out from a few feet away, only appearing enough to reveal its eyes, but that was enough for Keith. He waved it over, and watched the hesitance fill its eyes before it came closer to him. 

Keith moved backwards until Blue hoisted itself over the edge, resting its head on its crossed forearms and meeting his gaze head-on.

Keith inhaled deeply and prepared himself for what he was about to say. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” the words were nearly foreign on his lips, “So I’m going to promise something.” 

Blue clicked and leaned just a bit closer, eyes narrowing with interest. He knew that Blue didn’t understand, but it was endearing to see it trying its best anyways. 

“You’re helping me,” Keith smiled, fishing into his pocket until he retrieved an item that meant  _ so _ , _ so _ much to him, “So I promise that one day, I’ll help you.” 

Hanging from his hand was the last memory he had of the woman he had never met; of the woman that didn’t want him. It was nothing but a necklace; an insignificant scrap of leather that he held near him at all times. He would have thrown it away long ago; the only thing that made it worth keeping was the pendant it held. 

It was a gem that Keith could put no name to, inscribed with a symbol even Keith couldn’t decipher. It was bound to silver plating, where sterling leaves curled over the smooth edges and kept it locked in place. The gem itself was purple, and although it wasn’t Keith’s favorite color, it was one he held close to his heart, but only in the literal sense. 

Blue moved in for a closer look almost immediately. 

“Prom...ise?” It hummed curiously, eyes never straying from the glistening charm, and pride filled Keith’s lungs. 

“Yeah,” He murmured with the smallest of smiles, “I can’t ever break it.” 

He reached over slowly, giving Blue enough time to pull away, before grabbing its hand in a gentle grip. It voiced its concern, but unfurled its fingers nonetheless.

The burning of tears in his eyes nearly overpowered him at that moment, but Keith found it in himself to keep moving, even as something in his mind told him  _ not to do it _ . 

The leather was cold against Blue’s palm and it clicked curiously, holding the necklace up to its nose and sniffing it cautiously. Its eyes roamed over the purple in the chain and the charm hanging delicately from the center. It was being extra careful, Keith realized, as he watched it turn the necklace over in its clawed hands. Something akin to familiarity flashed over its face, but there was nothing too alarming about it.

“ _ Keith…”  _ It whispered slowly, peering unsurely at him. It pointed to itself, “ _ Y-yours…?”  _

_ It _ , in that moment, didn’t seem to describe the thing before him. Blue was his friend now, and was more human than he would ever know. 

Blue clicked again, pulling Keith from his thoughts, pointing again. “ _ Yours?”  _

_ He’s trying to ask if it’s his now _ . 

Keith grinned. 

A hoarse laugh escaped him and he nodded. It was strange, how he understood exactly what Blue was trying to say, without him actually having to say it correctly. But a lot of things were strange for him now. 

And he wouldn’t change it for the world. 

Blue release a garbled form of a click, and Keith met his eyes.

so were so impossibly blue, glowing softly in the dipping sun as they watered over with unshed tears, and Keith was briefly taken aback. Within them, Keith saw every emotion that Blue couldn’t convey with words, and he was stunned. Keith could see the fear, the pride, the raw  _ happiness  _ that was trapped in them. 

And then Blue was moving. 

With a broken screech, Blue launched himself from the water and hurled into Keith, wrapping him immediately into the damp chill of his arms. 

Keith hadn’t had a proper hug in what felt like years, but was really only around a week. There was something so warm about it, something that felt right; something that smelt right.

He let his body go limp, muscles relaxing against the sturdiness of the siren. Blue’s tears ran in streaks down his already dripping face, but Keith allowed him to wipe them away in his hair. And even though going lax in Blue’s arms was sudden and unexpected, he accommodated it anyways. 

With half of his tail still hooked over the side of the boat, Blue maneuvered himself beneath Keith until the human was tucked into his side, and cradled his head with his hands. He cradled Keith in his arms, and in that moment, Keith couldn’t have asked for a better friend. 

But still, a part of him was upset. Keith didn’t  _ want  _ to need this as desperately as he did. 

“I want Shiro back,” he whispered, knees knocking sloppily into the siren’s tail, but Blue didn’t mind. 

“She-roh?” Blue questioned, crooning softly in Keith's ears with every rumbling exhale. It occurred to Keith that Blue was  _ purring,  _ and the thought was so ridiculous it startled a laugh out of him. 

Blue understood immediately what was funny, and flicked Keith in his head. 

Keith looked up at him and pulled out of the hug, shuffling to the other side of the boat so he could meet Blue face to face. He chittered, but made no move to pull Keith back, instead slouching further into the wood. 

He cocked his head in question, ears flicking as he said it again, “She-roh?” 

“Oh, right,” He sighed, thinking his head back until his head slammed into it. 

“Shiro’s like my brother. The one with the white in his hair, and the scar. He-he  _ di- _ ” Keith’s voice broke before he could even finish the sentence, but he pressed on, “He got lost in the storm. When-when the boat went down he-” 

His eyes blurred as tears forced their way out and ran down his face, leaving him a slobbery mess while Blue sat there, shocked, as if he wasn’t crying just minutes ago. 

But it wasn’t shock, Keith noticed, as Blue’s next words registered in his head. 

“Shiro….-” Blue’s passive face morphed into one of frustration. He didn’t know the word that he needed, and Keith knew that feeling all too well. 

He leaned forwards until there was only mere inches between their faces. Blue blinked at him, as if Keith would give him the answer. 

“-Shiro.. like Keith,” He finally said, sounding completely sure of himself as he leaned backwards and away. He peered over the edge of the boat and at the sea, “Shiro... lost.” 

And when Blue turned back to face him, Keith knew what that expression was. 

It was  _ understanding _ . 

Keith nearly laughed at the irony.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these chapters are kinda short, sorry guys :/

 When the darkness swallowed the light, Keith was normally alone on his little boat. 

This night was different, and he didn’t know why.

Maybe it was because he wasn’t alone. 

Beneath the light of the moon, the glowing patches of scales that adorned Blue were at their full power, their soft light illuminating the area around them. There was something he found indescribably beautiful about it, and a rare sight that he would never get tired of seeing. 

Right now, however, Keith didn’t have it in him to admire them. 

He was stretched across the bottom of the boat, with water sloshing at his sides and obnoxiously filling his ears every time it rocked. He prayed for comfort, but that didn’t exist for him anymore, apparently. Strewn across the only seating available, was Blue. He was lazing about, drifting in and out of consciousness as Keith shot names at him back to back. So far, he had no such luck. 

“I dunno… Dylan?” 

WIth carefully retracted claws, Keith was flicked in the forehead. 

He winced, biting back a smile as he glared over at Blue, “Do you have to every time?” 

“K _ eeith _ …  _ stupid _ ,” Blue grinned after some difficulty, and Keith nearly choked on his laughter. He didn’t know why he ever taught Blue to say that, but it was hilarious. Blue, however, was less amused. 

“You’re no help,” he pouted, then sat up abruptly.

“Okay, okay, okay! I’ve got one!”

Blue didn’t even bother looking up as Keith paused for dramatic effect, wiggling his eyebrows, “What about Taylor?” 

He scowled over at his human, opening his mouth before he was cut off by what Keith could only assume was another of his kind. 

Blue looked up and out at sea, frills flicking at a sound Keith wouldn’t have been able to pick up. Something he could recognize as annoyance flitted over his face before he looked over at Keith, pointing to the water. 

“Go,” Blue told him after a moment's pause, and Keith nodded. 

“See you later, Jack.” 

Blue hissed violently, but there was no real hostility behind it, and that much Keith knew. He laughed, and Blue disappeared beneath the black water. He did it all the time, leaving Keith to wonder just what could be calling Blue back into the depths. He never went far, so did that mean there were more sirens, and not far off? Keith didn’t know whether to be happy for Blue, or scared for himself. 

At sea, nights were the hardest for Keith, but the siren was always there, lurking just beneath the surface in case he was needed. Sometimes Keith could feel him beneath the wood, could hear the drag of claws on the underside, or feel Blue’s movements as he glided underneath. 

The ocean was dark, so, so dark, and that was a deeply rooted issue Keith always had. There was no telling what could have been swimming around out there, and that was what made it dangerous for humans like him. Keith’s heart physically ached for Shiro with every waking moment- for someone he could speak to using intellectual sentences, and not just the childlike ones he used with Blue. As new as this feeling of not-belonging, Keith knew what it meant. The weight of being alone finally hit him- and he realized at that moment that he needed someone besides the siren to keep him sane. But its company was better than nothing.

For the most part, Blue never left Keith’s side, and it was something that had raised questions from the beginning. He just swam in constant circles around the boat, and if he wasn’t doing that, he was lounging around on board. But Blue was still protecting Keith, and that, he was aware of. 

Nights like these, where he didn’t know where Blue ran off too, were the worst. There was no light without Blue, just the soft beams of moonlight reflecting from the surface. He always sat at the bottom of the boat on these nights, avoiding the bench altogether because that would give him the time to think about what could be swimming around him. 

It was because of this, Keith wasn’t aware of the silhouette cutting through the water, and heading straight for him. 

It never made it that far.

When a deafening shriek tore through the air, Keith was alerted almost immediately. He stood so fast he risked tipping, and just barely caught sight of Blue launching himself at the shark in a flurry of claws, teeth, and scales. 

Keith had never truly understood what Blue was capable of until he witnessed it for himself. The moonlight danced across the tail Keith had associated with the word  _ beautiful _ , and allowed him to memorize the interaction with gory detail. Keith watched Blue coil around the unsuspecting shark, and thrashed around with enough force to jostle the boat. 

He could still hear the furious shrieking as Blue wrestled the thing beneath the surface as he forced himself to sleep, and when Keith awoke, shaking, the red in the water had faded. 

Blue was watching him. 

Keith looked at  _ i _ -him and inched backward from where Blue was perched. Hurt consumed his eyes, and for a minute, he looked bewildered. He leaned over the edge of the boat, hooking his claws into the wood until he could hoist himself the rest of the way in, but he paused. 

“Keeeith…?” He asked softly, reaching out towards him. 

But Keith jerked back and away from the claws shouting out a hurried, “No, Blue!” before he returned to his cowering. 

The siren recoiled immediately, yanking his hand back as if he was burned. 

“K _ eeith _ …” He murmured, but his expression quickly morphed into a snarl as he hissed the next word to come to mind, “ _ Stupid. _ ” 

And Blue too, was gone. 

Repairing that damage wasn’t easy. 

Keith had shown fear, _real_ _fear_ , towards Blue, and that had seemingly affected the siren more than Keith himself. The guilt was eating away at him, as was another form of fear. He was scared that he had chased away the only thing that cared about him, and that was something he wasn’t willing to risk again. 

His hand dove beneath the surface and he whistled, which should have summoned Blue right away. This time, however, it didn’t. 

And it didn’t for days.

When his time away from civilization hit three weeks, Keith broke down.

He was covered from head to toe in sunburns, and every new position he made only increased the pain. Dehydration was eating away at him; his lips were dry and cracked, and even the small amounts of rainwater he could secure couldn’t help him. He didn’t have to worry about food, though, he always awoke with guilt in his gut and pain in his heart, but there would always be a fish or two waiting for him. 

He had definitely acquired salmonella on multiple occasions, but Keith learned to fight his way through that. That pain, he could manage, but only because it was physical. The heartache was not. 

“I want to go home,” he’d croaked to no one in particular, but Blue had seemingly had enough with giving the silent treatment. He popped his head up from beneath the water, looking almost instantly panicked at the sudden outburst, but didn’t dare to move closer. Keith craved the shore, the people, the sand that somehow ended up everywhere, even in his shoes. He even missed bad things- the reek of hot garbage, or the burn of hot asphalt. Anything would have made him feel better. 

“Ke...ith…” Blue spoke softly, drifting closer, “Ho-me?” 

A brief flash of white-hot relief washed over him, and nearly distracted him from the miserable state of both him and his body. 

“Yeah, I want to go home,” he frowned, not giving himself the time to be happy for their reunion. He pointed to his legs and wiggled his toes, “Home has people like me. People with  _ legs  _ and real food, not just fish.” 

Ears flicked in confusion, but Blue did not dare to speak.

“Yeah,” Keith finished lamely, shoving down the feeling of guilt pooling like ice in his stomach, “A hotdog sounds really good right now.” 

He looked up and found Blue directly next to the boat now, peering over the edge at him. Keith moved his eyes away, throwing an arm over his face in hope that it would block the sun's rays. 

It didn’t, and Keith whimpered.

He stifled another as he moved and forced a neutral expression across his face as he changed the subject, “I think I found a name for you.” 

Blue reverted to clicking, unable to come up with a response, and when Keith didn’t flinch, he took it as permission to board the small boat. And whether on purpose or not, He settled in a way that blocked the sun from hitting Keith’s face, and showered him with water. 

It made Keith warm, but in a good way. 

Honestly, he hadn’t come up with a name. In fact, the whole subject of finding Blue a new name was completely off of his mind all day. But he brought it up, and with Blue staring up at him so unexpectedly, he had to deal with the consequences. 

As he mulled over the possible list of names, he was struck with thoughts of the  _ Lionheart,  _ of the brave captain that tried everything he could to save the boat and all of its people. He wasn’t successful, of course, but he had still tried his best, and managed to get Keith out of there alive. Even if he couldn’t save Shi-

He got out alive, and that meant more to him than any of it. 

Keith gave Blue a crooked smile as he said his next words very carefully, 

“It’s nice to meet you, Lance.” 

And amazingly enough, Blue smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we have some good ole wholesome content, kind of. my updates are kind of erratic, too, should i settle on an actual date for updating?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things go be soooo fast when I write oof

_ LANCE:  _

There was something changing in their bond, and he didn’t like it one bit. His human was getting worse nearly every day, and there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening. He had tried everything: coddling the human didn’t work, and neither did all of his treasures. 

What more did the needy little creature want? 

He was aware that is human-  _ Lance’s  _ human, didn’t belong here with him. But Keith wanted to go  _ home?  _ Something strange rumbled inside him at the thought. Home was  _ here _ , home was with  _ Lance _ , and the wooden box, and the  _ water _ . 

Deep down, though, Lance  _ knew  _ that his human didn’t belong in this sacred place; he could not live off of the land like him and his pod. He needed to go where the other legs went: to  _ land _ . 

Lance had seen people like Keith- he’d dragged them beneath the waves in the name of safety, and he didn’t regret it once. 

But Keith-  _ his  _ Keith, was different.

Lance didn’t know his real family. He was raised by mermaids that knew nothing about him or what he needed- and although he was grateful, he was in a constant state of being used. He had to protect them- deal with every threat because he was seemingly the only one capable of it.

It was infuriating.  

That aside, when he found Keith, he was basically a baby. Keith was a creature just as alone as him, and Lance didn’t have it in him to kill the child as he had so many others.  

Keith’s presence wasn’t welcomed in these waters. That part didn’t matter, though, because Lance’s wasn’t exactly adored either. But he didn’t care how the other sea-dwellers felt about him, but Keith was another story. Keith was  _ his _ , and he would rip apart anyone that dared to touch him. 

Lance was an unstoppable force in these waters. No one in his pod had the power to stop him when he got worked up. The  _ mermaids  _ aren’t like him, they don’t have claws, or tails as long as his, so there would be no real challenge. They are soft and docile, and he, on the other hand, is not. Lance is a predator, and no matter how he was raised, nothing could change that. He had the ability to end them with ease, it didn’t matter how much of a fight they would put up because Lance was quite literally  _ born  _ to kill. 

There was something else that he didn’t understand, though. Keith had even  _ given _ him something, something that was important to him, and some carnal part of Lance hums with energy whenever he sees it, safely tucked away amongst his cave of treasures. 

He looks at it when he has an especially bad day, one that doesn’t involve Keith, because those are never the bad days. 

A promise, Keith had called it,  _ a promise to help _ . 

He may not have known what help meant, but a raw sense of selfishness overcame him when it came to Keith, he didn’t  _ want  _ to give away his human. Yet, Lance knew, deep down, that it was time to let go. Keith was a child, much like him, and they both had a lot of growing to do. 

The first sign that he had to let go was in the form of a scent; 

His human started smelling different, his scent didn’t change like it used to. 

He used to only smell of that endless sorrow during the bright hours of dawn and adorned the dull scent of discomfort during noon. At night, his human used to  _ ooze  _ the burning scent of fear; of  _ terror _ , so Lance always did his best to assure his human.

Now, though, there was nothing but sorrow that surrounded him, and Lance would rather smell the fear than that. 

The second sign was when he cried, and Keith cried  _ a lot _ . 

Especially when he thinks that Lance can’t hear him. 

Lance  _ hated _ when he cried.

There wasn’t a problem when Lance did it that  _ one  _ time, because he was happy, but he knew Keith couldn’t smell that. But Keith’s tears were different- the dragging scent of sorrow multiplied until it clogged Lance’s nose and he could smell nothing but. It was startling, really. 

His human, the one he had tried so hard to keep happy, wanted to go where the others like him went; where they left and never came back. 

Why did Keith want to leave him? 

Was Lance not enough for him?

Didn’t he know how much it would hurt? 

No matter;

Keith wanted to go home, so Lance would take him home, if it made him happy.

Perhaps he could sing for him one day, Keith seemed to like the song that he taught Lance. 

Maybe Lance could go look for Keith’s Shiro, too. 

 

_ KEITH:  _

Keith awoke to stillness, and his heart immediately lurched in his chest.  _ Lance? Where are the waves? _

As much as he tried, he was unable to focus in on anything around him. He always woke up sluggish, but right now, it felt worse than it ever had before. 

Then- 

A slew of disconnected voices punctured his air of groggy disbelieve, words tumbling over each other brashly as they fought to be heard over one another. 

Keith tensed and released a shuddering sob, all of his emotions following it. 

Relief washed over him, accompanied by an overwhelming amount of fear. The fog that settled over his mind was thicker than ever.

They were getting louder, but they closer the got, the less sense they made to him. It all faded into noise, echoing around the wooden walls of his boat. One particular voice was winning the battle, it seemed, inaudible words strangely forceful in a way that just felt  _ odd  _ to his ears _.  _

His eyelids dragged upwards as some kind of reflex to the alarmed tones, but shut immediately in the presence of the blinding sun. 

_ Where the hell was he? Did he finally die? Where-where was Lance?  _

“Help!” 

The shout came from somewhere above him, and he was being lifted  _ up, up, up _

“Fuck- grab his legs!” 

It was a struggle to open his eyes. They were heavy, full of sand, and the world around him became a blur as he raised was in the air,  _ how long did he sleep? _

_ Where’s Lance _ , he tried to ask, but found himself unable to do so around a mouthful of what felt like cotton. 

“Give him to me!” 

It was almost impossible to keep his eyes open for much longer, so he gave in to beckoning darkness. 

_ Lance!  _ His mind shouted, desperately, _ where’s Lance?  _

Pain and emotion overwhelmed him as he cried out, tears leaving burning streaks as they rolled steadily from beneath his eyelids. His skin burned where the touched him- grabbing at his shirt and pants. It  _ hurt _ . 

Choking on a nasty combination of tears and vomit, Keith found the strength to open his eyes, and as the hands carried him away from it, he reached out towards the sea, where there was a splash of blue, and then still waves. 

“ _ Lance _ .”

___

When Keith woke up from his deathly sleep, he became aware of the sterile sting of the air, and the plush beneath him. His clothes were cold against his skin, and Keith briefly wondered if he was still dreaming as he sat up to take it all in.

Light streamed through the curtains, and he was suddenly more awake than he had ever been. 

_ Curtains _ , there was  _ fucking  _ curtains. 

 

He felt himself break, like glass hitting the hard grown. 

Panic set in immediately, tightening his chest until he couldn't allow anything but shallow breathing against his ribs. A static settled over his mind, thoughts a jumbled mess that he just couldn’t keep up with. He was in a  _ room _ , sitting on a  _ bed _ , limbs unable to move and unwilling to work. 

The hospital room was white and blue, but it was so  _ beautiful _ , that Keith couldn’t stop himself from laughing through his hysterics. 

People rushed in seconds later, pushing him onto his back and demanding that he  _ breathe _ as if it was that easy. What felt like minutes ago, he was lost at  _ sea,  _ with a goddamn  _ siren  _ for a companion. The more he thought of it- the crazier it got. The thing was, Keith  _ knew  _ it was real, he knew all of it wasn’t made up, even as he told that to them, they refused to believe it. 

Keith was severely dehydrated, and he also suffered from mania, as far as they were concerned. He was beyond  _ pissed _ because even when he was better, they didn’t let him leave. 

They told Keith that he was in a small town called  _ Altea _ , and asked him if he had any family, and how he survived. He was asked questions and told things nearly every day, but no one seemed to believe him. 

It was only a matter of time before he didn’t believe himself. 

They put Keith in  _ foster care,  _ where he spent a year bouncing from house to house until he found a place where he was accepted. 

Thace and Ulaz took him in. 

And Keith liked his new parents; they were big and scary. And now he didn’t have just one dad, but  _ two _ , who he liked to think believed all the stories he told. 

They had a friend that Keith liked too. His name was Coran, and he reminded Keith of Lance. He was thin and ginger, but he wasn’t soulless like Shiro used to say. His voice came out like he had a grass reed for a tongue and his mustache was on a new level of crazy. But Coran was like a beam of light and happiness wherever he went, and Keith didn’t know how much he needed it until then. 

Keith was undeniably  _ happy _ , and when Thace and Ulaz officially adopted him, no words could describe how he felt. 

So he grew up in Altea, and he eventually outgrew his past. He erased all memories he had of Lance- anything that made him stand out from everyone else. Anything that might earn him another beating from the local kids. 

Keith replaced every memory with things he knew made more sense; things that he could explain with ease and logic, instead of fairy tales and mythical creatures. 

But even then, there was one thing Keith couldn’t explain, no matter how much times people asked him.

How did you get here?

Because honestly, he had no idea. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the italics messes every time i post so then i have to re-edit it. sooo stressful

Keith didn’t know what to think of his dreams anymore.

He didn’t dislike them, they were just confusing for him; a collection of things that all came and went in a jumbled mess. But Keith had given up on trying to interpret them. He couldn’t determine which ones were real, and which ones were things he’d made up in an attempt to cope, so he just didn’t try anymore.

At least, until he was hit by the lucid dreams.

He saw eyes: eyes that were so much more than expressive. Emotions of call kinds swirled through them with abandon, changing in time as the seconds ticked by. They were captivating, as if at any moment he’d stray too close to the edge and fall in.

Understanding gleamed in them, and Keith watched as it morphed into a strange sort of bewilderment, and slowly by surly, unconditional admiration stared back at him.

Every tendril of color that composed the iris was incandescent, not only reflecting the light around them, but absorbing it.

It seemed as if the ocean was framed in between those elegant lashes, and Keith was drowning.

But for one minute, an uncontrollable wave of relief washed over him; one that cut through his earlier wave of panic and cleansed him entirely. They were familiar, but Keith would remember if he’d seen something like that, so he didn’t know why they eased the pressure off of his shoulders. Keith didn’t know _who_ they belonged to, but if they made him feel like that, Keith would crawl to the ends of the Earth to find them.

He didn’t however, like this dream, and it was time for him to wake up.

Thought It was no longer as stressful as it once was, Keith exactly didn’t take pleasure in it. Of course, there was still that fleeting moment where a foreign fear settled over him, as if he didn't know where he was, but it dissipated nearly instantly.

He woke up to soft sheets now and even softer sunlight, as he had for the past twelve years of his life, but it didn’t even begin to compare to the beauty of the sea. Keith was grateful, though, that he had the chance to wake up with something solid and sturdy beneath him, in a place where he constantly being adored.

Keith was turning twenty one today, and completely at peace with his life.

He had a friend to spend the day with now- Pidge. They’d met at the job they now shared, and had been bonded ever since. Coran counted too, but he was more like a third father to Keith than a real friend.

Today was his birthday, so he could spend as much time as he wanted with Pidge; chatting, venting, laughing, whatever he wanted. The house would almost definitely be a mess, but they’d never been bothered by it, so there was nothing different about today. They’d sit right atop that mess and go about their day however Keith wished to spend it. Maybe they’d actually go to work today- or maybe the two of them could go to the marine rehabilitation center for just _fun_.

He had to muffle a laugh at the thought.

As he got dressed and left the house, Keith thought over what he was going to spend his time doing today.

There were tons of options that he had; movies, aimlessly playing video games for hours, or just lounging around doing absolutely nothing. But he was restless; something about that dream really set his nerves on fire. Sitting around would do nothing to ease the hyper energy pounding away inside of him.

Keith changed his train of thought to Pidge as he approached her house. She wasn’t the kind of friend that you found intentionally, nor the kind that you’d keep around because of her kindness. She was a brutally honest person, and that was the main thing that rendered her an outcast among the town. But Keith was different, Keith appreciated that aspect of her. He always knew how she felt- she told him why and when she was angry with him, and she never shied away from being blunt.

Keith had to go through months of rehabilitation when he came back from his “voyage”, and he still never got the hang of understanding people or how they felt. But Keith had been like that since he was a child, _before_ the wreck, and no one believed him.

Except for Pidge.

Keith always stuck up for her in front of others, even when he knew she was on the wrong side. He felt a fierce sense of protectiveness when it came to Pidge, something that he’d supposedly adopted in his time overseas.

Their dynamic worked, strangely enough.

“Keith, I’m gonna need you to focus, pal.”

He blinked, eyes focusing on the tiny gremlin before him, then on the hand that was poised to knock a door that was already ajar. She snickered, pushing up her glasses before shoving past him and down the steps.

He let his hand drop, and followed after her, bickering quietly.

They went for a walk on the beach, as it was the one constant thing they did whatever they were together. It had always been Keith's go-to place for birthdays, no matter how much he was ridiculed for it because he “feared” the water too much to actually swim. He didn’t exactly fear it, but his unease was understandable after what he’d been through.

Keith couldn’t bring himself to hate the water for what it had done to him, he’d embraced his past and in doing so, he could see the true, chaotic beauty of it.  The damp air and salty tang reminded him of a home he’d long since forgotten.

He liked to look at the boats scattered across the docks, a random blur of colors and words he didn’t actually pay attention to as he strolled past.

Keith enjoyed watching them bob easily on the waves, and as many times as he was offered, he wasn’t ready to board one again.

He just liked to stand there, and let the world around him fill his senses. The warm air brought salt to his lips, and the cry of seagulls surrounded him, and nothing could compare to the feeling. A fuzzy sense of nostalgia settled over him, and he was struck with a sudden rush of _loss_.

But it was different than what he felt for Shiro, because Keith knows that he didn’t _lose_ Shiro, the man would always be apart of him.

This, however, was something different; something he didn’t understand.

As he walked, feet making indents in the sand, his eyes moved from the gold surrounding him, to the rocks, then the waves as they rode up the shore. Pidge grumbled beside him, shoving her glasses further up her nose while she walked, avoiding the sun’s direct rays by ducking behind Keith.

“Look!” Pidge suddenly shrieked, laughter coming from her in an unexpected burst, “That’s fucking gnarly.”

He followed her finger to where a bird was perched on a rock, picking apart the bloody remains of another seagull. Keith laughed, more at Pidge’s awkward cackling than the sight itself, but he found the sight funny nonetheless, “That’s wrong on so many levels.”

“Tell me about it,” she snorted.

Out of sheer habit, the pair approached an area where large rocks protruded just above the surface of the water, and with a rush of laughter, ran out before the side ran in, throwing themselves onto it just as it washed beneath them. Side by side, they stared out at the water, chests heaving with the remains of their laughter.

With legs curled beneath him, Keith looked down at the water, and stuck his hand in.

Pidge watched him curiously as he wiggled them, whistling shortly before he pulled it back. She never questioned why he did it nearly every time they were here, but today it was different. He’d never whistled before, though.

Pidge finally spoke, humming curiously, “Why do you always do that?”

Honestly… he didn’t know how to answer that. Keith knew that he was repetitive when it came to doing certain things, but only because he depended on them. Everything was always changing for him, but they often helped him remain in touch with the world around him.

“I don’t actually know,” Keith looked up at her and a ghost of a smile crossed over his face. He shrugged, eyes flickering back to the water as he blinked thoughtfully, “It’s one of the only things I remember from… you know.”

Pidge _did_ know, so there was no need to speak any further.

Silence drifted between them and gave Keith the time to think about things. He sifted through his memories, and when he did, the water seemed so foreign to him.

There was a time where it was considered home, but no that idea seemed so weird to him. He wasn’t a child anymore, but an adult three times the size of that. He could remember swimming peacefully in that ocean, floating senselessly. The ocean used to be something he loved, something that he had respected back then.

But all of that was different now.

He was taught to stay away from the water, because it was dangerous after what had happened to him, and Keith shamefully believed them. _Brainwashed_ , Pidge would say, and Keith could only agree with it. He was repulsed by the water now, no matter how much he adored it, there was an underlying fear that accompanied it.

He couldn’t bare to touch it anymore. The only thing his mind would allow was a hand, at most.

“So,” Pidge said, breaking the silence as she adjusted herself on the rock. She was getting angst, and it would almost be time to go. The sun painted her skin red where her shorts came to an end, and she glared at him for noticing. It eased up  as she spoke though, “You gonna get blackout drunk and pass out later?”

Keith frowned, looking over at her in faux shock, “Why the hell would I do that, gremlin?”

“Because, moron,” she grinned, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “You're _twenty-one_. It’s your time to shine.”

Keith, however, wasn’t having it in the slightest bit. He shoved into her until she tumbled off the rock and into the tide just as it rolled in. She landed clumsily on her feet, thankfully, but still got soaked through her flip-flops.

“Keith, you asshole!” She screeched, standing eerily still as she, “There’s gonna be sand stuck to my fucking feet _all day_.”

He only laughed, but his mistake was getting close enough for her to shove him back-

And directly into the water.

It washed over him, and Keith found himself being consumed by memories as they flooded over him; a collection of blue, blue, _blue-_  and raw _terror._

He inhaled sharply and the panic began like a cluster of fireworks in his abdomen. Pidge recognized it instantly and cursed, rushing over and pulling him out of the water with strength her body shouldn’t have been able to manage. She grabbed his face in her hands and forced him to meet her eyes, “Keith… Keith, breathe with me.”

And he does, following the pattern she’s set with a slight hesitancy, because as much as he wants this to be over, he wants to _remember_.

His hearing was the first to return to him, and his eyesight followed suit, focusing in on Pidge’s sloppily cut hair and foggy glasses. He pushes her back with shaking hands, taking a few minutes to breathe, and he settles.

“Sorry, I just-”

Pidge shook her head, cutting him off as she removed her glasses, wiping them on her shirt before putting them back onto her face, “It’s fine, Keith.”

And they were off again, walking along the waters and playfully chatting. She gave him a small, reassuring smile, before it vanished without a trace. Her eyes were focused on something over his shoulder, however, and nearly comically wide, _“_ What is he doing?”

Before he could even get a laugh out at the expression, Pidge’s hands were on his shoulders and whirling him around, where he finally caught sight of-

Wait, what the actual _fuck_?

Coran was sprawled out in the sand a few meters away from them, crouched near the water, poking at something not even a foot away from him. He looked up as he noticed them, waving enthusiastically as he gestured them over, pointing at something they couldn’t recognize.

Pidge looked up at him, questioningly, because if they were to get involved, they would be roped into working.

Keith shrugged though, and closed the distance between them easily, Pidge following close behind.

“Look at this, it’s absolutely marvelous!” He exclaimed, carefully slapping on some gloves. Coran grinned beneath his mustache, pulling whatever he was talking about from the surf with gentle fingers. In his hand was a fin- the kind Keith had never seen before, but it was beautiful.

“I believe it’s a dorsal fin of some kind,” he told them, “But I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He cradled it carefully between his hands and held it out to them, and interest immediately flickered across Pidge’s face. Coran studied it carefully, “I’m taking it back to the center if you kiddos want to come along.”

Pidge shot Keith a look, and he shrugged.

“Why not,” he told them, shoving his hands into the back of his pockets, “Not like there’s anything better to do.”

Pidge smiled, Coran chuckled, and together they left.

_

As they walked through the back room of the center, the otters followed them through the glass, tails moving wildly as they moved to drift by on their backs. Pidge cooed at them, wiggling her fingers and watching as they moved their tails in response.

The Altean Marine Center was the crown jewel of the town; located in an open, rural area with two colossal floors with a sizable lab for a basement.

The first floor was the best part, in Keith’s opinion.

It was where the dolphins were; held in large tanks that trailed from the outside, to the very window that composed the wall of the basement. The large glass panes of the otter enclosure were facing the outside as well, giving them the ability to swim by and entertain the people if they chose.

They didn’t, most of the time.

As they walked through the door, Keith automatically strayed to the left, heavily dodging the whale skeleton hanging overhead with Pidge not too far behind. He didn’t trust that thing one bit, and Pidge clearly felt the same. He didn’t know why Coran had insisted on putting it up in the first place; something about making the place more welcoming.

They moved around the interactive table, where horseshoe crabs and starfish were scattered through the shallow water. Keith moved his hand through the water, fingers brushing across the rough exterior of a starfish.

Coran began talking, something about dolphins, and Keith easily tuned him out. Pidge kept up with the conversation without hesitation, filling in the blanks where Keith was supposed to respond with casual answers of her own.

Keith’s eyes trailed across the floor, over the tank of tropical fish, and-

A shadow ducked behind the tank, and Keith froze.

“Guys,” He spoke, not even bothering to look up from the tank. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

Pidge stopped walking as well, peering at him questioningly, “You sure?”

He nodded, holding up a hand and shooing them along.

And when their footsteps finally receded, Keith walked curiously across the room and approached the wall, peering through the glass and the more-than-blue water. The vibrant fish swam past his vision, but there was something a lot bigger moving on the other side.

Keith was honest to god shocked.

It was too early for the center to be open, but there were always people stupid enough to sneak in. He frowned, hands wrapping around the very edge of the tank before he swung violently around the corner, popping to the other side and preparing for the worst.

Only then did he realize that he was so, very stupid.

Within seconds, he was slammed against the wall with a power no human should have been able to possess. His eyes clenched shut as a hand curled around his throat, lifting him up, up, _up_ , until he was nearly a foot off of the floor.

He choked on a cry, suddenly wishing that he had gone along with Coran instead of sticking his nose everywhere. Keith gasped out a withering breath, wrapping his hands around the offending wrists in an attempt to free himself, but his grip was weakened by the second.

“ _Keith,”_ his attacker suddenly hissed, and Keith opened his eyes.

He was released as if his skin burned, and was briefly overcome with a panic so strong, it felt as if he was paralyzed. Keith searched for purchase as he slid down the wall, grappling his throat as if it would ease the phantom pressure.

He met the eyes of the attacker and Keith vaguely recalls the blue, blue, _blue_ -

_Focus._

He was also naked, Keith realized, bare as the day he was born in the dim lighting of the center.

The man dragged himself further away from Keith as he regained control over his body and pushed himself into a crouch Keith could only describe as feral.

“Keith,” He said again, cutting off his thoughts with an accent that was foreign and oddly familiar. His blue eyes narrowed, morphing from malicious into a mixture of sorrow and barely restrained joy. He looked as if he meant to move forward, but winced horribly and tensed. But Keith didn’t budge, curling his legs into his chest and burning his face into his knees.

“ _Keith_ ,” He pleaded again, and Keith couldn’t find the words he needed to respond,  “ _Promise…_ . _Help_.”

Only then did Keith open his eyes.

He looked at the man’s features; he took the time to study his face and access why the hell it was so familiar to him. But his eyes wandered; from the bitter chocolate hair, the elegant lashes, and the eyes-

_He’d seen them before-_

_In his dreams._

And around his neck was the very pendant he’d thought was lost forever-

The one that they told him probably sunk with the ship-

The one that he’d given to the alleged _siren_.

Keith froze, a full body shudder rolling through him as a single memory washed over him- a name- one that he used to whisper like a mantra until it had lost all meaning to him-

One that used to mean the absolute _world_ , but had lost all credibility as time went on-

“ _Lance.”_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually so glad that you guys are enjoying this!! all of the comments make me so happy! Also, I'm planning on starting a new fic, so that's exciting.

The name was a trigger between them, and the man’s reaction was unlike anything Keith had ever seen. 

It burned like acid on his tongue, nearly scorching as it left his mouth, and exploding into the silence. It was painfully clear that this stranger felt the same thing, because he was suddenly moving.

The brunette lurched forwards with a desperation Keith could only describe as feral, and his whole body jerked in response. His whole body shuddered and he braced himself as If he was going to charge forward, but fell over face first on trembling legs. 

“Keith,” The brunette panted helplessly as he curled in on himself, face screwed up in a real resemblance of pain, “Keith… help Lance?” 

Another surge of white-hot panic overcame him and Keith _knew_ that he couldn’t leave this man in pain, whether he was a real threat or not. Lance offered him a small smile, and Keith was unprepared from the inviting warmth that fluttered through his stomach. He lowered his legs, meeting the man’s eyes yet again, and Keith thought that his brain would short circuit. 

He might not know this stranger, but his heart did.

The brunette grew angsty beneath his gaze, opening his mouth but closing it as if he decided against speaking. But Keith could see his throat contracting; adam’s apple bobbing as he released a sound Keith hadn’t heard in the longest time. 

The world seemingly stopped on its axis as it filled the air around them- and nothing seemed real to him anymore. Keith’s mind was suddenly plunged into an unaltered state of peace; pure, calm, quiet.

The humming was soft and melodic as it left his throat, as if it was the only way he could get his point across. The painfully familiar song rolled over him in sorrowful waves, and despite the emotional agony it brought upon him, Keith was overpowered by a dopey rush of adrenaline. 

It was utterly unlike him, and naturally, he was scared shitless.

He peeled his arms away from his eyes and looked up, “Stop it, please.” 

Almost immediately, it was cut off with the muffled clacking of teeth. 

“Keith,” the man ground out insistently, “You… Promise.” 

The words must have meant something, because somewhere inside of Keith, his heart lurched painfully. It pounded away ruefully in his chest, begging him to just remember, remember,  _ remember _ .

But he  _ couldn’t _ . Dragging up memories from a life that wasn’t his own would be wrong on so many levels, and Keith didn’t think he’d be able to handle that. 

Still, though, Keith didn’t know how to respond to the whole situation. He scraped through his mind to find anything that could possibly explain who the hell this dude was, and how the hell Keith knew his name. The answer was within him somewhere, but Keith wasn’t willing to dig too deep. 

His body forced itself into action, chest heaving with his labored breathing.

Across from him, “Lance” went lax. 

He looked hopelessly up at Keith then, trembling hand reaching up to wrap around something at his throat. Hesitation gleamed in his eyes, but with a terrible flinch, he ripped it from his neck. 

Keith barely had enough time to jump before the man slid it to him, and it easily covered the foot of space between them. The man looked up at them and said again, “Promise, Keith. Promise.” 

And Keith was stunned. 

In his hands was the necklace his whole life had once been based around. The necklace he had sworn was given to a siren in exchange for forgiveness. The necklace everyone told him was lost in the crash, was there, in his hands,  and he couldn’t believe what the hell was going on with him. 

He had to make a choice though, one that rested in his hands. On one, he could call the police and get the fucking  _ nudist _ who attacked him arrested, but on the other, Keith could fulfill this “promise” that Lance would have to tell him about later.

He  _ knew  _ that he was supposed to call the cops in times like these, 

But Keith was moving. 

“Lance…?” He asked, carefully tucking away the necklace before he began mulling over his decisions. 

As he cautiously removed the hoodie wrapped around his waist, Keith scooted in closer. His trembling hands were raised as if he was moving towards an especially startled animal, even though it was probably unnecessary. A deep part of him may have known Lance once upon a time but that was a long time ago, he didn’t know what had changed. Even if he had legs, he was probably still just as feral.

The man released another pained hiss as he tried to move, baring his teeth, and then frowned. It was clear that he was running his tongue over his teeth. Surprise flickered across his face, and Keith took that time to swallow his feelings and shuffle across the distance between them. 

“Lance, I’m going to touch you now,” he said slowly, and Keith didn’t know how he was keeping such control over his emotions. Tension was laced throughout his entire body, and Keith didn’t have the time to decipher between the two as he balanced on his knees before Lance. Keith forced a smile, but it came out more strained than intended. 

Lance sniffed at the air as Keith moved within reaching distance, and narrowed his eyes before a slow grin slid across his face. 

Keith fought through the emotions trying to control him, because in a matter of seconds, everything he had ever come to know came crashing down on him, and he didn’t even have the time to grieve.  _ Everything _ that he told the people was true, but the only thing that he couldn’t explain was how the  _ fuck  _ a  _ siren  _ had legs. 

The last time Keith saw Lance, he was a blubbering mess that no control over his own emotions- and Lance had brought him  _ here _ . 

He had always  _ hated  _ Lance for that; leaving him  _ here  _ with people he didn't know, someplace he didn’t know. It was why he had given up on any idea of the siren in the first place- holding onto the memory of being abandoned by someone he had come to care about was simply too painful for him. 

But it was his fault, and deep down, he knew that. 

He had asked to go home, and Lance was only doing what he thought would make Keith happy. 

Now, Keith was left questioning everything he thought he knew; his life was falling apart right before his eyes, and all it took was a being attacked by a naked man a place he grew up in. 

Life worked in mysterious ways. 

“I’m going to touch you now, okay?” 

Lance glanced up at him and nodded, brows furrowed, “Ye..es.”

With that, Keith started the process. 

He assessed Lance with quiet eyes; the man’s newfound legs didn’t seem to work for long periods of time, as demonstrated, but that could also be because he didn’t know how to use them. Either way, he would need assistance getting anywhere.

Keith maneuvered Lance to sit up against the tank, cupping the back of his head as he eased it against the glass. Carefully ignoring the dick not even inches away from him, he nudged the man’s arms into the air, only for them to fall limp at his sides. Keith grumbled unhappily to himself, slipping Lance’s arms into the sleeves by one. He tugged it over the brunette's shoulders and hoisted him to his feet. 

Lance blinked at him unsurely and leaned into Keith’s hold, winding his arms around tee man’s neck as he cautiously tested out his feet. He winced, and his knees buckled, but he finally managed to stand on his own again. The hoodie was ginormous on Keith; the cuffs extended far beyond his hands, and the bottom itself pooled at his knees. On Lance though, it seemed to have shrunk three measurements. The oversized hoodie barely graced his thighs, but it would get the job done until he could find something better. Lance cocked his head, “Keith… help?” 

And for a minute, Keith didn’t feel like he did with everyone else. There was no strain to this interaction, like there would be with most people. It felt like they had been friends for years. And Keith supposed that even though it was only a few weeks at sea, it might as well have been centuries. 

Even though Lance had pulled them away, Keith grabbed one of his arms and threw it over his shoulder before wrapping his own around the brunette’s waist. 

“Yes, Lance,” he smiled, biting back a smile he had barely any control over, “I don’t know why, but I’m helping you.” 

It felt strange to ignore all senses of danger in order to do something morally right,  and Keith would be lying he said it didn’t make his chest swell with pride. That was something he was unaccustomed to, but welcomed nonetheless.

Something tugged at his shirt, fingers digging into his shoulder and pulling him the slightest bit backward, “Keith-”

Lance’s croaked version of his name snapped him back to the real world, where they were almost inches away from walking into a door. It happened a lot more often than Keith would think; he’d get so caught up with thinking about something that he’d physically zone out. 

“Sorry,” Keith muttered, “Got lost in thought, happens a lot, surprisingly.” 

“Keith… lost?” Lance asked, confusion lacing his tone. His arm tightened around Keith's neck as he spoke his next words, “Keith  _ home _ .” 

It was almost funny. Lance assumed that just because there was legs- it meant that Keith was home, even though he was much more at peace during his unwilling voyage. Over a course of three weeks, Lance had become everything to Keith, only to be ripped away in the blink of an eye. 

“No Lance, I’m not.” He grumbled, narrowly avoiding another wall during a sharp turn, “Just because everyone has legs doesn’t mean I’m home.” 

Lance only blinked, wobbling alongside Keith until they reached their destination. 

Keith released his hold on Lance for a brief second, ignoring the soft rumble of displeasure that wracked the brunette’s frame so he could fish the keys from his pocket. He fumbled for a second, trying to find the right one no matter how much times he’d opened this specific door.

On the third try, he finally got it.

The door to the clinic swung open haphazardly, hitting the wall with a noise loud enough to startle them both. Lance bared his teeth at the noise, and Keith thought that if he had his frills, they’d be pressed flat against his head. 

What the  _ fuck _ , Keith? 

He shook it off, leading them into the room before he kicked the door shut behind them. He selectively tuned out Lance’s pained grunts as he maneuvered them through the room, eventually approaching the examination table. 

“Wait here,” he told Lance, hoisting him up until he was seated on the cool metal. He shifted uncomfortably, but probably because of the cold, not the fact he was near naked. Keith rolled his eyes, returning to the door. 

He opened it a crack, poking his head through it before slipping it shut. He twisted the lock, turning around at Lance’s confused chirp. Even as a human, he still seemed capable of making the strange noises he had back then. His vocal cords were different than Keith’s, but it didn’t stop him from speaking. 

Keith would have to look into that. 

Avoiding Lance yet again, he glided by and dodged the man’s outstretched hands, making a direct beeline for the supply closet. He opened that door as well, trying his best to block out the heavy stare weighing down on his back. 

After he grabbing what he was looking for, he whipped around and showed it to the man, laughing at the startled expression on his face. 

Lance observed the wetsuit as if it was some sort of torture device, “Clothes?” 

At this, Keith hesitated, finally paying attention, “How do you know what clothes are?” 

This whole time, Keith had been under the impression that Lance only knew the words Keith had said during their time together, and was repeating the ones he understood. This was different though, Keith couldn’t recall teaching Lance what that was so-

“Sendak told,” Lance said with eyes that trailed across the room, as if what he said had no real significance. 

But Keith briefly couldn’t function. 

“How?” He breathed, hand holding the suit going limp, “How the _hell_ do you know Sendak?” 

Lance’s arm stretched to cover the distance, pulling it from his loosely curled fist before pushing himself off of the table. He stood on shaky legs, and pulled the hoodie from his body without a second thought. 

“Sendak… Help Lance.” He frowned, clearly searching for a word as he made a lazy gesture with his hand, He slid his legs easily into the suit, and his arms soon followed. He blinked, “Help Lance to Keith.” 

“He… Helped you?” Keith asked, unsure, because it  _ really  _ didn’t sound like anything Sendak would do. He was a lot darker than he let on, and he surely wouldn’t let a naked man ride around in his precious car without reason. Or without getting something in return. 

“Yes, helped,” the man said insistently, face quickly turning to one of quiet distaste, “But.. Sendak hurt Lance...” 

Keith’s breathing nearly halted then, and he barely managed to muffle the distressed sound that left him, “What did you  _ do _ ?” 

Lance cocked his head as he slid the zipper all the way up, lips curving upwards into a predatory grin. His eyes were alight as if he was recalling a particularly exciting memory, “Lance hurt Sendak.” 

All at once, Keith that familiar weight settle upon him. 

“ _ Fuck _ .” 

Keith walked over to the table, heart beating away in his throat. 

Anxiety crept over his shoulders, wrapping around his neck until he could feel its presence  _ everywhere _ .

Keith glanced up at Lance as he picked up the man’s hand, studying it carefully and wishing for the best. The was no visible brusing on his wrists or knuckles, but there was certainly something dark and flaky beneath his nails. 

Of course, it could have been anything; the man's hands were grimy enough, but Keith had the feeling he was in for a lot more than he planned. 

He opened a drawer to the left of them, grabbing a toothpick and a spare petri dish before making his way back over. 

Lance seated back on the table yet again, legs kicking away at the air. Keith took a short pause and with a warning glance, he gently probed at whatever was beneath Lance’s nails before scraping it out of each finger completely. 

Lance didn’t move as he did this, instead looking over Keith with a burning curiosity. He clearly didn’t understand the direness of the situation, he didn’t understand much of anything in fact, which was why Keith was so utterly scared. 

Keith moved across the room at a rapid pace, yanking open cabinet after cabinet so he could find the hydrogen peroxide he kept somewhere in the room. An eyedropper was the next on his list, and when he had that, he slowed to a stop. 

After gathering a decent amount of it into the eyedropper, Keith performed the quickest test he could on whatever this substance was-

and sure enough, 

It bubbled over. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, i'm surprisingly not dead! my laptop is, though, which is why these updates are taking a little longer than normal. we're back tracking a little in this chapter, so i hope you can keep up!

_LANCE:_

Lance slid easily though the water, slipping smoothly beneath the waves as he dove beneath the surface. He twisted and turned throughout the depths, darting after stray fish and watching as they avoided him with quick, fluid movements. He didn’t slow for a second as he whirled around, and Lance clicked noisily in his laughter.

He maneuvered himself onto his side, sticking his arms out in front of him so he could cut through the water at an even greater speed, heading straight towards the place he was most familiar with.

A part of him hesitated, but pressed on as he slowed.

It was a human vessel that Lance had come to know. It towered over the him and filled the open ocean, consuming the space. Most of the metal had rusted away over the years, but a majority of the frame itself remained.

Continuing on, the siren swifty pulled himself through a gaping hole in the bottom, moving through slowly so he didn’t scrape any of his tail.

The area was spacious for the most part; most of its hidden treasures had been cleaned out and were now safely tucked away in Lance’s secret cave.

He moved lazily through the endless maze of tunnels and door frames, alternating between swimming on his back and side as he navigated through the sharp turns. Lance’s life at the moment was the slowness of the world around him, and he was cherishing every tick. What felt like hours of mindless, albeit relaxing, swimming, he reached the other side of the metallic beast.

Lance darted through the hole, and on the other side, his world came into view.

Just bordering the edge of an abyss, was the reef.

The coral wall was built from massive groves of vibrant colors, carefully cultivated by the mermaids for all sorts of different things. Within the massive cluster of color was nothing but towering buildings of algae-covered marble.

A sunken city, one that was once home to archaic families of roman descent, was now inhabited by sea dwellers of all kinds, but Lance had never belonged to any of them.

Alight with an idea, his eyes gleamed. It was something they did when he got worked up, but very rarely could he activate it on his own. Sometimes it came in handy, they lit up the darkness when need be, He was thankful.

More ideas were brewing in his head by the minute, but his usual pop in seemed like the best idea.

Lance briefly paused to ask himself, was the scolding he would get actually worth it?

Hell yes it was.

A low sound rumbled in his chest and he jerked his tail before exploding into motion, zipping through the water until it bent to his will.

Mimicry, one of his more appreciated skills, gave him the edge he wanted.

Muffling the pain of it, Lance forced his body to obey his commands. His throat constricted, and the heat lacing through it was not the good kind, but he embraced it. And then opened his mouth, letting out the enraged cry of a panicked whale.

Lance burst through an opening in the coral, winding in between the towering buildings and hurling through whatever open spaces he could find, releasing the sound at full blast.  

But instead of the horrified gasps and panicked screeching, Lance heard nothing. Lance’s cries lowered, and he slowed to a stop before one of the more ancient buildings. He surveyed the city around him and his mouth clicked shut as the gloom around him settled in. He forgot, for a brief moment, that he was supposed to be paying attention.

_“Lance!”_

Almost immediately, reality crashed over Lance and caused him to hit the emergency breaks, which led to him slamming into the person before him. She barely flinched, though, and held him stead.

Lance felt the familiar frown tugging at his lips and he released a low, questioning trill. Her response was almost instantaneous.

Allura held fast to his arms in grip tight enough to hurt. A strange sound escaped her, and Lance felt her gills vibrate with the sheer force of it. Her head found his neck, nose nudging into the spot by his gills. He hesitated, but allowed himself to be vulnerable.

“ _Lance,”_ she said again, weak and tired _. “Lance.”_

The touch against his neck was suddenly too much; his spines bristled.

Lance bared his teeth with a burning hiss and jerked backwards, flaring his fins and raising his spines until he looked bigger than he actually was. Lance didn’t know what was wrong but he certainly wanted to. he _needed_ to understand what was happening, because Allura _never_ showed her weakness.

In fact, she didn’t even respond to his sudden display of aggression, instead choosing to curl her arms around herself and look away.

Another heart-wrenching noise escaped her, and Lance’s resolve crumbled.

He slid forwards, moving his hand through her hair before sliding them to the sides of her face, cupping her jaw with gentle hands. He paused, and pulled her back in.

After a moment’s hesitation, Lance nudged her back so he could meet her eyes. They were red and puffy, which only made Lance’s mood worsen.

“ _Allura?”_ He hummed, “ _Sister?”_

She had never been one for crying.

Although she had not always liked being called by her human name, it was something that grew on her; on all of them. Lance had introduced the idea to the entirety of the population, and it was immediately adopted into their culture. Each of them had two names, now.

Though sometimes, Lance hated it.

No one knew about Keith, but everywhere Lance looked, he was there. He should have squashed that foreign feeling when he first met the child; he should have left him there to die at sea. He shouldn’t have gotten so attached.

Everyone called him Lance now, it was no longer a private thing to him, and he hated a part of himself for it.

Lance didn’t have the time to mull over past experiences.

Having Allura so close made him uncomfortable, but Lance had long since outgrown his feelings for her, as they were replaced with a familial bond in a matter of days. Her father had taken him in when no one else had, and Lance certainly didn’t _need_ the bothersome drag of liking someone again;  _he_ was the siren after all.

 _Focus_.

Lance curled his tail loosely against her own, moving his eyes away from hers to where the dark skin slowly melted into a warm, deep pink as it met her torso. But the scales still climbed and climbed until they they danced across her sides and over his shoulders much like his own did, covering her modesty yet barely at all. But even when crying, she looked so, so brave.

Her lobe-lacking gears pointed upwards towards her golden crown, where it sat intertwined with her soft, iridescent hair. Lance ran his finger through it absentmindedly, cooing softly as it would settle her unease.

Allura moved forwards the slightest bit and tilted her chin up, knocking lightly into his chin as he made more space between them. A watery expression twisted at her face as she spoke with him.

“ _Lance_ ,” she murmured, and Lance urged her with soft cooes, “ _They took him.”_

Allura clicked for his attention and he frowned, looking up before taking in her stern expression.

“ _Who_ ?” Lance’s fins flared against his will, and it took all of his power to prevent the burly spines from marring her. His eyes were illuminating her face, “ _Who? Who did they take?”_

 _“No,”_ She gasped over another sob, “ _I cannot do that to you, Lance.”_

 _“Tell me, sister.”_ He persisted as she pulled away all together, “ _I cannot help until you to tell me.”_

“ _You are already upset, this is will ruin you.”_

For a short dobash, Lance mulled over the depth of that. It brought so many things to mind, but none of them would give him the information he needed. He thought of his discontent with the pod, or the indescribable cloud of loneliness that surrounded him constantly. Lance didn’t _belong_ with the pod of mermaids; he needed a shoal to call his own, one with sirens like him.

But he couldn’t have that, so he would settle.

“ _Allura_ ,” he crooned, bringing her into another embrace, “ _I will be alright, tell me.”_

With carefully retracted claws, Lance carted through her white locks, drawing her closer until their foreheads touched.

“ _I will be fine,"_ He assured after a moment's pause, “ _Explain_.”

“ _Hunk’s gone,_ ” She spoke, body shuddering as she released the words, “ _Galra took him_.”  

And for the briefest of moments, he froze.

Then Lance hurling himself away from Allura, brutally ripping away his limbs as if her touch sudden;y burned. She didn’t look surprised though, just sad, as if this was the reaction she was expecting.

Lance didn’t know what upset him more.

He was _moving_ , not even giving himself the time to be careful as he twisted around and tore off.

Hunk, _his Hunk_ , was gone.

Against his will, that primal part of himself released an anguished cry, one that carried through the water with a volume he’d never possessed before. It violently ripped through currents, resonating off of anything within its range. The sound swept through the ocean like a whirlwind of pain; demanding that it felt his loss.

And then, Lance wasn’t moving anymore. Just sinking, sinking, _sinking_.

His throat constricted painfully in his chest and he released another broken cry as he literally hit rock bottom.

Nausea swirled unrestrained in his empty stomach and time itself slowed around him, and not in a good way. Lance couldn’t do anything but _feel_. Despair and suffrage crashed over him harder than any wave ever could.

Hunk wasn’t related to him by blood, hell, neither was Allura, yet Lance still felt the loss tenfold. Hunk meant more to him that anyone else ever would. Maybe just a close second to his Keith, but he still meant the world.

Lance hadn’t felt like this in _years_. His once peaceful world was being ripped away from him, time after time again. The world just wasn’t _fair._ It ripped his family, his _real_ family away from him, and now it was taking what he had tried so _har d_ to build.

He curled his shaking fingers into the sand and willed it to stop, biting down on his lips in an attempt to distract himself. But nothing was going to help; it wouldn't change _anything_. Lance couldn’t even _think_ properly; couldn’t breathe without his _brother_ to bring him back. He _prayed_ , it was another one of his nightmares; that he would wake up and Hunk would be outside waiting for him. That he’d feel the pressure of Hunk’s hand in his own.

But this wasn’t a nightmare.

Within minutes, it got to the point where Lance couldn’t do anything but release whine after whine against his will. His gills were struggling to pull in enough, and his heart felt like it had been put through a grinder, then shoved back into his chest.

“ _Hunk_ ,” he murmured brokenly to no one but himself, “ _Please._ ”

Time was like glass as it started moving around him again; broken into so many fragile pieces. Every edge pricked him and drew blood, painting the water red behind his eyelids. His life was nothing disgusting blur of self hatred stretched out before him, and he didn't know how he ended up in the shallows. Didn’t know how he’d reached there in the first place. But a part of him did, a part of him had been the one to lead him here.

When Lance took Keith home, the heartache was similar. It was something that burnt through all of the oxygen within him; and learning to breathe in a world without Keith wasn’t easy. It had left a void inside of him. A dark one. A never ending darkness that ate away at everything, and Lance had felt nothing. Empty.

He had changed that though, with the help of _Hunk_.

The thought made it even worse.

Now, it was like a vexing of the soul for what Lance felt was not human nor beast, it was twisted and distorted and it was _strong_ . A raging inferno ran like fire as it raced through his veins and crept up his spine. He was _angry._

Lance knew where this emotion came from; it was the carnal part of him. The _siren_.

He didn’t know if Hunk was alive, but he’d die trying to find him. Hunk _had_ to be out there somewhere, waiting for him, and Lance wouldn't give up until he was home again. Until he was safe among his people.

Nothing would stop him, but Lance would have to go where no one ever had before.

 _Keith_.

He needed Keith.

_

Lance clawed his way from the water, fueled only but a white _hot_ rage that destroyed any and everything inside of him. His breathing became nothing but ragged, shallow inhales as he struggled to compose himself in the face of danger.  

He was vulnerable.

Halfway out of the water, his ears swiveled as they picked up a strange sound. Vaguely, it sounded like a garbled form of his language, but there was an underlying squack to it.

Lance spotted the chirping birds and snorted.

Animals.

He snorted, and hefted himself fully onto the sand until only his tailfin was submerged.

The sun danced across his scales, but it wasn’t like the other times he was sunbathing; a single command resonated through his body and discomfort rippled through him.

He shuffled forward, attempting to pull himself further from the water. But then suddenly agony he felt was crippling, tearing through his lower half faster than he could keep up with.

An array of colors came to life behind his eyelids and Lance thrashed, fighting hard against it.

There was no reason for them to, but an impossible ache overtook his arms. The real agony hadn’t even started yet, but his body was exhausted.

Lance _knew_ that the pain was coming, and his whole body tensed in preparation, but it didn’t soften the blow. It was savage, and he could _feel_ the bones in his body split into an untold number of fragments as his mind became inoperable.

It forced him inside of himself; to the primitive place that knew how to cope with pain that ascended death.

The violent colors were back, moving throughout his eyes in an array of colors that briefly distracted him from it.

But the colors didn’t last forever, disappearing before the next wave hit with even more force, as if something sharp was being twisted along his spine. It shot up fast, clearing any forming thought from his head and locking up what muscles he could use.

But he didn’t scream, he wouldn’t bring any attention to himself.

Then the fins were sloughing from his body one by one, followed by layers upon layers of muscle and flesh as something new formed beneath them. The claws fell away too, but not before they tore into the hopeless remains of his tail, desperate to alleviate the pain in whatever way possible.

A sickening squelch filled the air around him and Lance let out an agonized screech as his teeth retreated, sinking back into his skull until new ones could protrude. He could feel everything _;_  the bones shattering and bonding as they reformed themselves.

It was millions of years of evolution occurring all in under a dobash, and it was torture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> broooo don't you hate it when Ao3 does the thing with italics that adds spaces?? it's so annoying


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooo long time no see. ignore how bad this chapter is in favor of me being back. This was an old draft that i just got around to finishing, it'll be better now i swear.

**3 hours earlier**

A pain like that was enough to traumatize someone, and Lance had the feeling he would have to get used to it very quickly. His whole body wracked with trembles and muffled sobs, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The most miniscule of movements caused pain to ripple down his spine, but from what he could tell it was dulling.

Vargas must have passed before Lance finally mustered the courage to move. He wrestled against his nerves for control of his limbs, and rolled his ‘ankle’ testingly. Knowing the different parts and how they worked was a requirement for him now, and it had been for many years. He was fighter class now- and knowing everything about his enemies was a need. 

Lance didn’t want to think about that though; he had only become battle class so they taught him things like this. Keith wasn’t an enemy and he never would be. He was Lance’s human, and could do no wrong in his eyes. 

Shaking his head, Lance forced himself onto his hands, trying and failing to ignore the shaking in his elebows.It was hard though, and he found himself falling more often than not. 

After cleansing himself of his own blood and flesh, Lance spent a few minutes mastering the movements. His first few steps did not go well, and Lance decided that he didn’t like the dry sand. 

But he eventually got the hang of it; mustering all of his strength until he could walk clumsily along the bank in search of civilization. There was nothing around him, though, the spot he’d chosen to beach himself was nothing like where he’d dropped Keith. There was people there back then, so that Lance could assure himself that Keith wouldn’t be alone for long. Here though, there was no sign of life besides the noisy birds. 

But then there  _ was _ , and he emerged from nowhere at all. 

One minute Lance was alone, and the next, there was a burly man blocking his path. He found himself blinking up at the man, and clicked questioningly. There was something off about the man; as if he was like Lance, but not even close. The scent of disinfectant and  chemicals assaulted his nose, but there was something that weaved its way in between them; it reminded Lance of home. But he wasn’t like Lance, that much was clear, he would have noticed. He felt his nose twitch as he spoke again, this time in English, “Help?” 

Something warm and smoky filled Lance nose and he frowned, recoiling slightly but not willing to risk losing this chance. Scents were much harsher on land than they were in his home, where the water muffled them greatly. 

“Uh, sure?” The man finally shrugged, setting a bag of onto the sandy earth before he began sifting through it. He looked up, eyes running over Lance’s body, “Someone steal your clothes? It happens a lot more than you’d think.”

A questioning hum escaped Lance; he didn’t know what the hell the human was talking about but he hoped it had something to do with Keith. 

“These are from earlier, and they’re still pretty damp, but something tells me you don’t care.”

With that, Sendak shoves things into his arms. It was two things, actually, and they were rough to the touch. He held them up for his eyes to see, and discovered it was probably their idea of “clothes”. Lance really didn’t see the appeal, and curled his nose in distaste. 

Bringing them closer to his face, Lance sniffed them curiously. The burning scent immediately met his nose and it crinkled in response. There was something off about it; the scent was harsh and wicked in essence, but Lance could still feel the suffocating thickness of the smoke. 

The man raised an eyebrow at his behavior, and Lance knew that meant he was asking a question, one he probably wouldn’t know how to answer. 

There was another pregnant pause before the human broke the silence,“You okay?” 

Lance had no idea what the fuck that meant. 

As it turned out, interpreting what humans were saying was a lot harder than it was years ago. Sure, he could tell when it was a question based on the lilting of the voice, but he couldn’t get a grasp on the words he didn’t already know, which wasn’t a lot. 

“Help,” he said again, firmly. It was a question, so that must have been the answer. 

A chuckle left the human and he moved forward, Lance going still as to allow his assistance in however the hell he was supposed to put the “clothes” on. It turns out that whatever the man gave him was much more uncomfortable when pressed against his skin. It was nothing but fabric, and so different from scales. 

“I’m Sendak,” he said and Lance glanced up. It was a very simple thing to understand, even for him. “What’s your name?”

Ah! Something he knew how to answer, “Lance.” 

“Okay, Lance. How can I help you?” 

_ About time.  _

This conversation was moving agonizingly slow, but Lance could work with that. Humans were one of the more primitive species, so he couldn’t judge them for it. They were trying, though. 

Scanning his brain for a simple way to explain it, he settled for keeping things down to one word. It would be easier for Sendak, right? He knew that humans weren’t the most intelligent creatures on the planet, but they were very intuitive. 

“Keith,” Lance told him, “Lance to Keith.” 

“Keith?” Sendak’s parroted, and for a brief second Lance considered if it was even worth it. He nodded slowly, blinking and gesturing as if it would help the weak-minded creature understand. 

“Yes,” he said again, “Keith.”

“Keith Kogane?” 

Air rushed from Lance’s nose in the form of a sigh and his eyebrows bunched, “Yes.” 

_

Lance had to sit there for vargas in the moving box, alone with the coarse fingers constantly grappling at his skin. He had thought it was just a normal human thing; that they were as touchy as the mers, but he had grown more irritable by the tick. Every time he tried to close his and rest, Sendak had flicked him and demanded that they stay open. 

But Lance refused, so he closed them over and over, until the box stopped moving.

Then, Lance opened them. 

He just wanted to sleep, and he didn’t understand why Sendak was being so aggressive. Were all humans like this?

Lance could smell the sharp tinge of his anger in the air, and wondered just who was in charge this human. Who had raised him so carelessly?

“We’re near his weird ass aquarium,” he said, and Lance nodded as if he understood. “It’s the only place I know where to find him, but you’ll have to walk the rest of the way.” 

He might not have understood it properly, but Lance got the basic meaning behind it. Stopping meant they were at their destination. Where was Keith?  

Then he was above Lance, and instead of his instant touching, there was malicious edge behind his heavy hands. It felt wrong, because it wasn’t  _ his  _ human all over him and that meant Sendak had no right to touch him. Even then though, Lance didn’t feel any real fear or panic. Sendak was just a handsy human, and he would pose no challenge

Lance just wanted to know why he was so insistent on rubbing all over him. Keith never tried to scent mark him, so hadn’t that meant it wasn’t normal for humans? Lance wouldn’t let him anyways, only Keith had the right to do that. But for now, it was fine. 

That was until there was a hand in his hair and a mouth at his neck.

_ Threat _ , his mind snarled immediately,  _ danger. _

His body relied on pure instinct, arm jerking forward until it slammed into Sendak’s unsuspecting body. 

Well that didn’t go as planned.

Lance watched the human react to the sudden jolt of power he was exposed to, and nearly laughed. He didn’t handle it like Lance expected him to. Despite his monstrous size, his body rammed violently in to the dashboard, forehead colliding with the window until it shattered, and he was forced all the way through. His eyes rolled back, and blood seeped from his limp body. Lance’s nose wrinkled in distaste.

Exiting the car, Lance took a minute to pull Sendak’s body from the box, coating himself with blood in the process. He laid the down on the smooth rock and shrugged, turning away from him and carrying on down the road. 

_ Sendak _ had it coming. His hands never should've went somewhere Lance was uncomfortable with; it was the first law. But then again, he was human. 

Either way, he made his bed, and now he had to lay in it. 

Lance blinked, and approached the stationery box, shedding the sticky “clothes” as he went.

**Currently:**

Lance watched as his human barreled through the room like there was a hurricane on his tail, moving his body but seeming as if his mind couldn't keep up. Keith’s eyes were wild as he stood above some container, watching the bubbles fizz, and Lance looked away. 

It was so  _ boring _ , and he soon found more interest in the dullness of his nails. They were so…. blunt, and his teeth? Flat. It was absolutely appalling, and Lance honestly didn’t know how humans- or mers for that matter- survived without their teeth. 

“Shit, shit, _ shit! _ ” The human hissed, getting even more hysteric by the second, “That’s blood, Lance! Real, possibly human, blood!”

At that, Lance looked up. He didn’t understand most of what Keith said, but the words he could salvage from the wrecked sentence were  _ Lance, blood _ , and  _ human. _

He frowned. 

Had he done something wrong? Lance was subjected to a violent act by one of Keith's fellow humans, and he defended himself. Humans were weird, and Lance felt completely out of his element up here. Sendak, that shifty goblin, crossed a line that Lance didn’t like, so he was punished. There was nothing wrong with that.

Keith looked unnaturally pale as he hurled himself away from whatever was fizzing away on the table, and Lance clicked his concern. His breathing was harsh, violent even, and Lance had never seen Keith move so sloppy. 

In his haste to get away, Keith swiped the contents of the counter clean off, sending it clattering to the ground with a deafening crash. Lance hissed and forced himself to stand, biting through the pain until he could determine what was causing his human such distress. 

Lance reeled, launching the fizzing thing across the room and away from Keith. 

He turned to him, and didn’t know what to do. 

Keith’s eyes were wild, and he took a few steps back until he bumped into the counter, as if he wasn’t expecting it to be there. He sunk to floor after a minute until he was mindlessly staring at the ceiling, mouth moving without forming actual words. 

Lance watched with haunted eyes as Keith began talking faster than Lance could comprehend; as if he didn’t have enough time to get all of his words out. The sentences were fragments and broken, and quiet frankley frightening. 

“Keith?” He questioned softly, the human words sounding all wrong on his tongue, “Keith… Lance help Keith?” 

His head lolled to face Lance, eyes glazed. Keith’s voice was thin and distant, “You could- It’s not- Lance why would you-”

None of the things leaving his mouth made sense to Lance, but he nodded along anyways, sniffing at the air as if his chemosignals would tell him how to fix this. They didn’t. 

And then, amongst their panicked speaking, there was a sudden banging on the door, followed harsh and demanding shouts of Keith’s name, but they only seemed to worsen his mood. Shock forced Lance’s body to jerk towards Keith in an instinctual movement driven by the urge to protect him. A frenzied panic tore at Lance, how could he fix this? 

The banging grew more insistent by the second but Lance had no intention of allowing anyone near Keith. He was vulnerable, and weak, so he needed Lance to protect him. Humans weren’t made for combat, and although the wouldn’t be at his full capacity in this form, Lance could still do damage. 

“Keith, let me in!”

A rumbling growl escaped Lance, rippling through his chest until his throat vibrated with the force. He hovered before Keith, never once taking his eyes off of the door.

“No,” he found himself growling. 

“Who the fuck-? Keith open this fucking door!”

Rage, white hot and potent, painted Lance’s vision red, and for a minute, the only thing he became aware of was the overwhelming urge to tear through whoever was on the the other side of that door. Humans were so noisy! 

He felt hands gripping at the fabric coating his body, and his attention was immediately pulled in by Keith’s shaking fingers. Lance cooed gently, tuning out the violent sound of force on metal in favor of covering Keith’s ears. 

Trembling fingers locked on to his wrists, and Lance felt nothing but pity for the delicate creature in his arms. He sat down next to the human, pulling his head into his chest until he could feel Keith melt against him. He opened his throat, fighting the unnatural and foreign feeling of it as he hummed lowly. It wasn’t loud enough to be heard, and with his hands over Keith’s ears, he wouldn’t have heard anyways. 

It just was loud enough for the vibrations to be felt and gloss over whatever was bothering Keith. Lance didn’t know what else to do, but this always worked on Allura when she was panicking. He cooed softly, pressing Keith’s head further into his chest as he nuzzled against his head.

The shouts grew more insistent, just the repeated chorus of, “Keith! Open this goddamn door or I’m breaking it down!”

Lance hissed, sucking air through his teeth so fast as he realized he had a split second decision to make. There was what he recognized as a glass pane in the wall, one that led to the outside, but there was no way he would risk keith getting injured if he was to shatter it. The other option was to stay and fight, but he wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to under the circumstances.

He couldn’t protect both Keith and himself from whatever weapons they had as soft as he was now, so there was only one option left.

Lance grimaced and prepared himself for what he was about to do, easing Keith from his arms until his head rested gently against the counter. He kept up his muttering even as Lance reached over him and towards what he knew as the sink.

He twisted the knob to the point the metal snapped off into his hands but the water gushing from the spout was an all too familiar sight. 

Lance frowned down at is,  nose scrunching as his whole body tensed in preparation for the pain. He hesitated, and then made up his mind.

He flinched, and shoved his hand straight into the running water. 


End file.
